Object of Thought
by Bew0G
Summary: English translation of "Matière à réflexion" (French ficlet) Post 8x05 - T/M - Donna has a lot to think about after that little stunt Harvey pulled. Where does all that flirting come from? Hit that review button if you like.


Object of Thought

There was nothing clearer than a decision. Harvey had no intention of letting her get away with her rule again. Strawberries and whipped cream had merged into a ghost, something that couldn't materialize again. Until now.

His advances were becoming more obvious like he wished to know her again. That last phone call had quite the after-effect on her. Donna decided to take a cab. But remembering their previous conversation was an all too simple task – almost too pressing as if all her doubts concerning motherhood which she had silently explored through Louis had vanished. She'd reassured herself. The depth of Harvey's words hanging and making her forget all of her questioning.

"Okay, mind reader."

"What do I have to say to that? I don't know, Harvey, but I'm glad you went."

"To tell you the truth it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I swear it took a piece of me, Donna."

"Well, you could look at it that way, or you could look at it like you chose to give a piece of yourself."

"That's pretty good."

"You should be a philosopher."

He had no idea his own doubts had erased one of her biggest. Maybe her kiss had the desired effect after all. Was the desire she'd instantly suppressed, watching him try to mend his relationship with Paula, on the verge of being welcomed? Donna sighed. He'd flirted with her yesterday morning. There was nothing more there. She had to keep up appearances and refuse the more she wanted to see.

Donna was finally home. She placed her coat and bag on the table, took off her shoes and poured herself a glass of red wine. Sitting on her couch, she sipped on her drink and revisited one of her heaviest secrets. She never had any children and would probably never have any. Louis had found the woman with whom he'd start this human adventure. Donna had found her man twelve and half years ago. Her calculations were wrong, it seemed and her own vision of family with it. She'd chosen Harvey even though her rule implied that she'd been set on working at the firm.

His flight was late at night. Had he arrived yet? Why all these questions? They weren't together and had never been. And yet, they seemed to have reached that more these last few weeks. The looks he'd given her, his cologne and even his suits looked different, brightened up with a light she thought was gone. He wasn't looking at her the same way. Personal space gone at times. Close. Way too close. She could see herself drawn back to him. Physical and wordy. Let's talk masturbation this morning. And why not test our all so perfect friendship? They'd managed to satisfactorily condemn themselves. It made her feel outraged. Two glasses later, he haunted her even more. She wondered if he needed to let her in as much as she wanted him beside her; or the other way around.

She felt all over the place. Hot. Needy. She hiked up her dress and parted her thighs. She stroked herself through her panties slowly. The more Harvey infiltrated her thoughts; the more he looked like the Harvey of before; dressed in that casual and lighter suit he'd worn that night. Her object was a combination of things. And she couldn't prevent herself from thinking about them. Maybe their night together was just a joke to him but it remained that something more to her. She bit her lip, shameful that she never got over him. The madder she got, her hand worked faster. Still sitting, she lifted her legs up, yanked her panties off and tossed them on the other side of the coffee table.

She sank down into the couch and pressed her feet against the side of the table. Legs spread, heels anchored, she slid her fingers down to her intimate folds. Fingers tracing the carnal contours, she was imagining him, knelt before her and testing her pleasure points. The button of his pants was open and his zipper was down. The ghost of thirteen years ago was gloriously masturbating himself where they'd started the other time. He'd applied whipped cream on her lips and had kissed her so many times she couldn't recreate the entire progression to perfection. But she remembered his fingers rubbing her slit. The mental construction was so recurrent in her mind, so messy that she didn't know which way to turn, knowing what she knew now. The strawberries would come in later but she still wanted to take her time to come. He was capable of thinking of her that way, creating fervent anticipation within her at the possibility of tremendous peaks. The alcohol had gone to her head and the overwhelming sensation that would result from the tip of her fingers was so close that it took her a few seconds to hear her name called from behind the door and his deafening knocking.

"Donna!"

She stopped abruptly, rose from the couch, lowered her dress and tried to find some composure again, catching her breath. What was he doing here?

"Donna, open the door."

Shaking, almost at her peak that suddenly seemed despicable, she moved to the door, shot the bolt and undid the lock.

"Harvey, what are you doing here?"

She took in the sight of him for a moment because he wasn't saying anything. His dark brown eyes were scanning the entryway and then set back on hers. He looked fidgety and terrified.

"What's going on?" she added.

Harvey's breathing intensified; and there was this fiery glimmer in his eyes she'd only seen when he was about to lose a case, when his memories haunted him or when he was getting ready for a fight. Unless he wanted to whack her in the jaw which, ultimately, wasn't something he'd ever do. There was either a problem with Marcus, his mother or…

"I don't want to wait anymore, Donna."

"What?" she asked.

"I want you…"

She stopped breathing.

"All the time," he added. "Tell me I'm not dreaming this."

The object of her desires was standing, tall and without pride in front of her. He laid his heart bare and there weren't any reasons for her to not do the same.

"I was just thinking about you."

He threw himself at her, kissed her and slammed the door shut behind them.

Fin.

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 **Hope you guys liked it. Hit that review button if you did. ;) It was hard to translate but since it's my fic, I decided to switch a couple of things around.**

 **Thx to Alternateshadesofblue for actually alpha-ing this one. One suggestion though am I getting better at this? :P**


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